The Bus To Fourside
by Lina Darkstar
Summary: Vignette. Ness's thoughts after a harrowing trip through the gold mines.


_Ahhhhh._

Ness leaned back into the badly-upholstered bus seat, resting his head against the cool glass of the window and trying to position himself so that he wouldn't have to move for the next thirty minutes. Paula was already asleep beside him, having tilted her chair back into the unoccupied seat behind her and shut her eyes almost immediately upon sitting down.

Small wonder; she'd spent nearly her entire reserves freezing the crap out of five gigantic moles. The last one she'd stopped in its tracks using power she didn't really have to spare– it had come charging out of a side passage that none of them had noticed, its claws only inches away from Jeff's face when Paula turned it to ice. After that, it had been hard for the psychic to even stay on her feet. She'd insisted she was fine as they walked out of a maze finally -and mercifully- devoid of monsters, but Ness had kept a sharp eye on her swaying step. Thank goodness they were finally in a safe spot to rest, he mused, looking at her exhausted and sweaty face. Without really thinking about it, he moved to brush a curl of blond hair away from her closed eyes.

A quiet snore came from the seat directly behind him, and Ness's hand halted as if it'd been frozen itself. Ness shook himself and pulled back, smiling a little as he craned his neck around the gap between his seat and Paula's. Jeff had tilted his chair too and was currently dead to the world, glasses in hand. The young genius had been their guide in the dark, keeping track of their route with an almost uncanny memory for every twist and turn. He'd also done more than his share of the fighting; Ness's smile turned to a bit of a grin as he recalled one memorable dead end, formerly filled with poisonous snakes and giant ants, that Jeff had transformed into a pile of rubble with a single well-placed bottle rocket.

Of course, Jeff wouldn't have _had_ to do more of his share of the fighting if Ness himself had been on the front lines to help. He sighed, leaning back against the window and staring sightlessly out at the bridge supports whizzing past. This started to exacerbate his headache, though, so pretty soon the only thing he was watching was the sparks and comets behind his own eyelids. But still, his throbbing temples and nagging thoughts kept him awake.

Why had he been so useless there, anyway? Partly it was the place- he really, seriously hated enclosed spaces, and the lack of all light except for that cast by Jeff's mining hat hadn't helped. Add in the dank, musty air and you had a recipe guaranteed to send claustrophobics into hysterics. There was the abundance of venomous creatures, which meant his own psychic power had had to be almost exclusively reserved for counteracting poison. On top of all that, the biggest, nastiest creatures in there, prime baseball bat fodder under any normal conditions, had for some ridiculous reason all been equipped with psychic shields! Ness had learned this lesson rather painfully when he'd lunged at the first mole three times his size and scored a direct and deeply satisfying hit on the thing's skull, only to be promptly clobbered himself by an unseen retaliatory force. Were it not for the hard hat he'd been wearing, he probably would've had a concussion.

_ But that didn't stop Jeff_, a niggling little voice in his mind reminded him. _Jeff had backup plans. Jeff had bombs and bottle rockets and slime-generating machines._ He sighed. _And_ nothing_ stops Paula. Even when she's supposed to be out of power, she STILL kicks ass. _

Another sigh. Was this it, then? Had he encountered the perfect combination of factors that rendered him completely useless? And was it those factors, even, or did his measly power just plain pale in comparison to his two incredibly talented companions?

And what in the hell was that BEEPING?

The bus slowed, stopped. The beeping continued, and through his growing headache Ness recognized the high-pitched and extremely annoying sound made by trucks backing up and cars being hotwired. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes shut, and eventually the beeping stopped, thank god. But the bus still wasn't moving.

Rusty hinges creaked, and metal swung outward. The bus door was opening? But they were still on the bridge, right? Not even a quarter of the way to Fourside yet. Curiosity piqued in spite of himself, Ness opened his eyes.

George Montague was stepping into the bus, and he had the look about him of a Man on a Mission that his brother was so fond of sporting. The miner caught sight of Ness and his eyes lit up- he said something to the driver that was inaudible over the run of the engine and strode quickly to the middle of the bus. He slid his considerable frame past the two unoccupied seats in front of Ness and leaned over the second one, settling his muscled arms over the headrest. Ness managed to summon a weak smile, and sat up a bit.

Greetings, Ness. George offered with his customary politeness, smiling back and gesturing that Ness should be at his ease. Don't get up, I'll just be a minute.

Ness settled back into his chair gratefully. Hey, dude. he said softly, mindful of his friends' positions- though he doubted they'd wake from anything short of a klaxon right at that moment. What's up?Gerardo found something. George informed him, reaching into the front pocket on his heavy-looking vest. Not buried treasure, just yet, but he wanted to give it to you. Said you might have some use for it. He produced a small leather bag tied with a drawstring, and handed it casually to Ness, who in turn almost dropped it from the unexpected weight. The young man raised a curious eyebrow at his friend before pulling at the drawstring. Whatever was in the bag was almost too big for it, about the size of a small apple. He turned the bag over and shook it, and finally the object rolled out into his outstretched hand.

For a few seconds, Ness stared at the chunk of ice, wondering why it wasn't cold to the touch. Or melting. Or, for that matter, quite so clear.

And then it hit him, and it was all he could do to not faint right there in the seat. He raised an incredulous gaze to George's grinning face.

I can't accept this! he blurted, forgetting to keep his voice down. George's grin widened.

Gerardo thought you'd say that. He also said to tell you that since it's not gold, he's not interested. So if you don't take it it's going back to the mines. Ness just stared at him, mouth hanging open. He reached out and laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. Also, and don't tell him I said this, but he knows damn well how valuable it is. You deserve it, Ness, and that's that. George gave the shoulder another pat, and then stood up and shuffled out of the seats. Anyways, I have to head back to work. You know how it is, busy busy busy. He reached the aisle and turned, giving Ness a wave. See you!

And before Ness had collected himself enough to speak again, George was out the door. It shut with a hiss, and as the bus started up again, Ness could just hear that same persistent beeping of a truck backing up-- or a tractor moving, he realized, as he looked out of the window and saw George's ride start to inch on back down the road. And then they were moving forward, and by the time the bus entered the next tunnel the miners' tractor had vanished from sight.

Ness sat back in his seat and stared at the rock nestled in his palm. It was uncut, to be sure, but clear as glass. It caught the lights that were mounted on the tunnel walls as they zoomed by, throwing rainbows onto the folded-up tray table in front of him that entranced him for more than a few minutes. He suddenly realized that his headache was gone.

With a genuine smile, the young hero slid his prize back into its bag, and tucked it carefully away into his pack. He'd tell the others when they got to Fourside. For now, though, it was clearly way past time for a nap.

And, hell. If he hadn't been so useful to the team this time around?

Well, he'd just have to do better next time.


End file.
